Delinquinnt
by harlekat
Summary: 'Delinquinnt' is a play on the word 'delinquent' using Harley Quinn's name. Hopefully by the title you can tell that this story is about Harley Quinn and the Joker. With references to TheJokerBlogs, Batman: TAS; Batman: Begins, TDK, TDKR; and some personal touches such as dates. I decided to set this story in December 2011 just so it has a personal element to it.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome To Arkham

**Chapter 1: Welcome To Arkham**

**"Looking back now, all I can think is that love transforms someone. It can make you crazy in so many contexts. Realising everything I had before that; a job, money, sanity, and how I've lost that all now. But do I regret what I've done, and who I've become? Of course not. It all started on the 13th December 2011..."**

"Harleen Quinzel?" I looked up, and standing there was a woman in a white lab coat holding a clipboard. "We're ready to speak to you."

I got up, collected my belongings and followed the woman into an office, roughly 8 by 8 feet, and sat in a chair next to a desk that faced out of the window. The woman sat down opposite me, blocking the view of Gotham city and it's skyline and said "I'm Joan Leland, and I must admit, I was surprised you wanted an intern here at Arkham."

"Well I've always had an attraction for extreme personalities." I replied. "I find them interesting – challenging."

"Well I must warn you now, these are hardcore psychotics." Joan said, looking at me straight - concentrating on my every move with those dead pin-prick eyes of hers.

"You can't deny though. There's an element of glamour in super-villainous minds."

She stared at me, with a blank facial expression. As if she had never smiled once her life. I found it strange how within 5 minutes she had gone from a normal human being with life to a mannequin of... Well... Nothing. She finally looked back down at her paper-work scribbled something down and nodded at the door saying, "You're office is on the third floor, 2 doors left from the fire exit. You're patient, #4479, suffers from 'Antisocial Personality Disorder', and a very severe case of it. He's a sociopath, so don't go making friends with him."

I looked at her absurdly.

"That was a joke. You may go now. Make yourself feel at home."

I started to gather my things and walk out the door when-

"Oh and Miss Quinzel... Welcome to the community."

Little did I know that 'community' is a cover up word for 'mad-house'.

I walked into my office, it looked... Empty more than anything, like the rest of this building. I found it strange that a building full of such extraordinary personalities could be as run-down as this place. It also had this damp smell like clothes that had been hung out to dry during monsoon season. All there was in this room was a mahogany looking desk and a chair to match it. There were papers on my desk titled:

Arkham Asylum EST. 1974

Patient #4479

Name: Joseph Kerth

Date of Birth: February 21st 1985

Diagnosis: Severe Antisocial Personality Disorder, Sociopathy, Psychopathy.

Therapist: Dr. Harleen Quinzel

Then I realised, nothing says 'Welcome' more than a bunch of paper-work that says that you're the one that has to treat a homicidal maniac.

However, something about this place made me feel at home. And if it wasn't for that feeling of being needed, then I would have left.


	2. Chapter 2: Therapy Begins

**Chapter 2: Therapy Begins**

"Wednesday 14th December 2011, Time: 8:00 AM, Patient #4479, Therapy Session 1 with Dr. Harleen Quinzel."

So here I was, sitting across from a murderer in a plain white room with a voice recorder next to my note book with a pen in my hand.

"So why are you here?"

No reply.

"Okay then. Where are you from?"

Still no reply.

"Er..." Well this was awkward. "How are you today?"

Nothing.

"Let's just start with an easy question then. What's your favourite colour?" I improvised. Anything to get him to speak.

"What's that got to do with anything?" A husky voice spoke, he looked up at me, confused. Finally.

His eyes were as dark as death surrounded by a circle of black paint around each eye. His face – white. And his mouth was crimson with paint, stretched all the way up either side of his face, to make it look like he was smiling, but he wasn't. He had two scars on both sides of his mouth, they must have been carved with a blade of a knife. Either way, they looked painful. But I recognised him, he was the Joker.

"Just answer the question." I said.

"If you must know, it's blue-eyed, blonde, and she smokes." He leaned in towards me. "How come Arkham didn't manage to get someone that fit the description that I requested?"

"Gee, I'm sorry I didn't match your criteria." I turned sarcastically. He gave me a look of concern, but that confused me because there was nothing to be concerned about. "But this is an interrogation, not speed-dating."

"I thought it was therapy."

"That too." I looked at my watch. 8:13 AM. "Why are you here?" I continued.

"Because. My father was... A drinker – and a fiend. He used to beat me up pretty badly. Every time I got out of line – BAM!" He slammed his hand on the metal desk with a horrific reverb pounding off of the walls. "Sometimes I wouldn't have even done anything. There was only one time when I ever saw him really happy, he took me to the circus when I was 7. I still remember the clowns running around dropping their pants." He laughed at the memory, it was scary. He was sort of wheezing whilst cackling, a weird combination. But I found comfort in the noise. It was settling. "And then he broke my nose."

Well that escalated quickly. "Why?"

"I don't know, I was a delinquent. You know SWEETS, I like what I've heard about you, especially the name. Harleen Quinzel, re-work it a bit and you get Harley Quinn."

"Like the clown character 'harlequin', I know, I've heard it before."

"It's a name that puts a smile on my face. It makes me feel that there's someone here who I can relate to."

I looked at him, smiled. His eyes were sparkling. I suddenly felt very uncomforted. I did not like this feeling, I started to shake and I felt as though I was going to throw up.

"What makes you do the things... That you do?" This was no longer a good experience.

"The Batman."

"So the only reason that you're here is because of the Batman?"

"No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! NO! I want to be here. I like it here. Free food, roof over my head... Lovely company." He looked at me again with those blazing eyes. I tried to avoid his gaze.

"We're getting off track."

"Oh, so there's a track now, is there?"

"That's beside the point." He leaned back in his chair and looked around him. I've lost him now, I've probably received all of the answers I'm getting today because he clearly was not interested anymore. I sighed. "Let's just call it a day."

"Whatever you say, 'pudding'." I shot him a monotonous stare.

"End of therapy session 1, time: 8:32 AM."


	3. Chapter 3: Christmas Eve

**Chapter 3: Christmas Eve**

I woke up on the 24th December and went into work as if it were any other normal day. I walked into my office, up to my desk and there I found a puzzle, it was of Gotham city's skyline. On the lid of the box I found a note which said 'Merry Christmas, from Mr J'. I marched down to the basement, cell 21, the Joker.

"Care to tell me how this got in my office." I said waving the note around flinging it towards him.

"I put it there."

"I think the guards would be interested to know you've been out of your cell." I said, threatening him.

"If you really were going to tell, then you already would have." He confronted me, standing up; his face was roughly 5 inches away from mine.

"Look, I can't handle this right now. I have work to do and then-"

"When's our next therapy session?" He interrupted.

"What?"

"I'm looking forward to it; I've got tons to tell."

"Our next scheduled appointment is not until next month when the New Year rolls in."

"But what date? I'm counting down the days."

"The 3rd of January. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work."

Then I left, walked back up the stairs to my office sat down and I couldn't stop thinking. Thinking how he got into my office, thinking about our next session, thinking about the wedding. Oh God, the wedding. MY wedding - with Guy Kopski. He was... Everything a girl could want; tall, funny athletic, kind, handsome, sympathetic, gentle yet protective. But I didn't want him, not anymore at least. I had been having second thoughts recently and I no longer wanted to marry him, but at the same time I couldn't bare the thought of leaving him. I had to get back to work, it had been 45 minutes. 45 MINUTES? Holy hell! I did need to get back to work, all I've been doing for the past 45 minutes is reminisce on my 2 weeks here and how much I've already changed.

Then the sudden thought popped into my head about the Joker and what his Christmas must be like here. I at least had somewhere to go. I was going to spend the day with Guy and his family, opening presents next to a tree with shiny ornaments hanging on the branches with the smell of chestnuts roasting on an open fire in a room dimly lit by a fire with Christmas music in the background. My favourite Christmas song's Fairytale of New York by The Pogues featuring Kirsty MacColl. I've always been a fan of Kirsty MacColl ever since I was only 7 years old, when I heard my mother listening to the song 'There's a guy works down the chip shop'. I looked out of the window, it was snowing, the last time it snowed was November 2010, and that was when I fell in love with Guy. It only just occurred to me that I've only really known him for about a year and we're already getting married. This was a relationship that was going far too fast for me to handle. I had to end it.


	4. Chapter 4: Sirens in Silence

**Chapter 4: Sirens in Silence**

"Harleen. Harleen wake up." Guy was shaking me to wake me up. But why?

"What is it?" I said, half asleep.

He switched on the news and there it was, a golden headline saying 'Joker Escape'. The Joker had escaped from Arkham. SHIT!

I jumped out of bed and threw on a white shirt and a pair of jeans, picked up my car keys and dived out of the front door to my car. I turned on the radio and all everyone was talking about was the breakout from Arkham Asylum that the Joker had made. Except one radio station which was actually playing music, 'White Stripes' by Blue Orchid. I didn't know where I was driving to, I knew that if I went to Arkham, they'd confront me straight away and would probably fire me on the spot, saying I needed to pay closer attention to his every move. I had to find him, where would he go? The circus maybe? Or was that too cliché? I mean he did talk about his father taking him to the circus when he was 7, but then again, what would he do at a circus? Maybe he went to rob a bank? Oh God, I wasn't thinking at all correctly, he won't stay in one place otherwise they would have caught him by now.

Think, think, think! Where would he be? Where would you go if you were-

Suddenly it hit me. Not where he would be, but a car, a car hit my car. And suddenly my brain was collided with a pile of different thoughts, feelings. I got out of the car and looked at the wreckage. I was surprised I wasn't hurt, it looked pretty bad. I went over to the other car that had driven into me, to see if the driver was okay. There he was, I should have known my luck.

"What are you doing out of Arkham? I thought you said you liked it there."

"I do. As a matter of fact I was heading back there now, until you drove into my car."

"You were the one that drove into me."

"Only because you were in the way." As it turns out, I was the one in the way, I had driven through a red light without realising.

"Let's just go back to Arkham." I put my arm around him and we started walking in the direction of where the Asylum was located. In silence. Leaving the wreckage behind us without taking a single glance back. I could hear the sirens, so many sirens, the noises of Gotham and it's terror.

"What's the date today?" He asked.

"The 27th December."

"Only 7 more days to go." I was dreading everything, everything but that. I was actually looking forward to our next therapy session. "What's troubling you?"

"Nothing." Lies. Everything.

"You're engaged." Urgh, why did he have to bring that up?

"Can we not talk about my private life?"

"That's unfair. We talk about mine."

"That's because we have to. It's my duty to find out how you are mentally and how you progress." That seemed to shut him up. At least for a little while...

We arrived at the Asylum and everyone was staring at us, at me mostly, because I just managed to casually walk across half of Gotham with one of it's most notorious super-villains.

"Dr. Quinzel." I turned it was Joan speaking to me, the first woman that spoke to me on my first day working here. "I see you've returned with..." She looked over at the Joker who was now staring at the ground, not really bothered about being back here. The guards took him away, back to his cell and I left. After all it was my day off.

The paparazzi were waiting for me outside, flashes of light at every angle and eager reporters with microphones were thrashed towards me. I kept my head down and carried on walking. It wasn't really my problem now and I didn't want to talk about it, so I proceeded with my procession across the city until I arrived back home.

It was barely 8AM and it was already a rough day.


	5. Chapter 5: A Drift

**Chapter 5: A Drift**

I can't remember the next few months very well except brief bits, like New Years 2012. I remember hoping for 2012 to bring something better into my life. Sure enough I didn't know what was going to happen. Though there was one thing that I can remember really well...

There we were; sitting opposite each other like any other usual therapy session we had, except it was different. Something was different but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He said he needed to tell me something important.

"What is it?" I asked. I hadn't been looking at him the same way for weeks, not since that collision when he broke out of the asylum. He confronted me; he wanted me to look at him. I mean I was his therapist; someone who was meant to keep an eye on him and I could barely look at him. I wasn't angry at him, not one bit, but I just felt ill and nervous whenever I was around him.

"Look at me." He said. So I did, I looked up at him for the first time in what felt like months. I looked him deep into his eyes, and for the first time I realised that his eyes aren't dark at all. They were a teal/turquoise colour. They were sort of teary, like he was about to cry, or as though he hadn't slept in a while. And for the first time ever, I saw vulnerability. I wanted to protect him. But from what? What was there that he was so worried about? Why did he look so vulnerable? And then, "I love you", he said. The Joker said "I love you", but he said it to me. It was suddenly so clear to me, all of these feelings that I had been having. Feeling nervous around him, shaking constantly, barely being able to look at him but whenever I did I was staring, staring at his eyes... Did I feel this way back?

I felt so happy in that instant.

"This is a dream, isn't it?" I knew it wasn't, but I was so worried that it was.

And then, it left. I had woken up. It was a dream after all.

I lay in bed staring through the gap in the curtains, at the sunlight that streamed inwards. My left eye twitched as my right eye watered. Tears were gathering in both.

It seemed that my dreams were in fact hallucinations inside of a Trojan horse.

A little later on I found myself sitting at my desk at home, on my own, in a dark corner. I lit a candle; I think it was 'Seaside Escape' from 'Bath & Body Works'. But that doesn't matter; I just had to clear my head.

I grabbed a piece of paper and started writing:

_Dear Guy,_

_I'm sorry I couldn't tell you this in person_-

...

Oh God. What do I write? I decided that I wasn't thinking straight, I don't love The Joker. That's crazy. I love Guy, I know I do. I scrunched up the paper and threw it in the bin. Now what? So I decided to go for a walk. I couldn't exactly leave Guy now anyway, not when it's this close to the wedding. Okay, what was the date today... The 17th March? So that meant that the wedding was roughly 2 or 3 weeks away.

Yeah. And that's all I can remember from that day.


	6. Chapter 6: The Wedding

**Chapter 6: The Wedding**

So there I was, walking down a church aisle to the faint sound of what seemed to be a harpsichord playing Canon in D major by Pachelbel. However, it wasn't the best version, rather the opposite, it was some crappy recording on a small black plastic tape. I got to the end of the aisle and looked up, and he was there, Guy Kopski, as of today he will be my husband and I will be Dr. Harleen Kopski. It didn't really have much of a ring to it as Harleen Quinzel did. Maybe I should keep my old name, just for my occupation. No. No, I have to take Guy's name. I removed the veil from my face, so at least now I could breathe; the smell of netting was suffocating me.

To be honest the next few minutes are a complete blur, something about marriage or ducks or some other crap like that, I don't know but I can remember the vows.

"Do you, Guy Kopski, take Harleen Quinzel to be your lawfully wedded wife for better, for worse, in sickness or in health, for richer or for poorer for as long as you both shall live?" Asked the vicar in his crowning glory.

"I do."

"And do you, Harleen Quinzel, take Guy Kopski to be your awfully wedded husband for better, for worse, in sickness or in health, for richer or for poorer for as long as you both shall live?" Did he just say 'awfully'?

"I...-I do." Oh God, now people are looking at me. I shouldn't have stuttered, even for a dramatic effect.

"Very well. If there is anyone here that knows of any reason why these two people may not join in union, speak now or forever hold-"

What the fuck's happening now?

The vicar was lying on the floor; he'd been shot? I'm sure that's against the Bible! People were shouting "Call an ambulance" and others were screaming whilst running out of the door.

"Are you okay?" Guy asked me. Where did the shot come from? I turned around and-

"Well, well, well. Congratulations." The Joker.

"What are you doing here?" Shouted Guy; standing in front of me; protecting me.

"You didn't invite me; I had to make some sort of appearance."

"Get away!" I shouted; Guy blocked me from any sort of interaction. The Joker walked up to us, pointing the shotgun towards Guy at all times.

"What do you want from us?" Guy said.

"Look, I'm a man of tradition, and I noticed you don't have a best man, so I thought I'd do the honour of filling in that position myself. And if anything were to happen to the groom, the best man would take his place. You know? Like, if the groom... Died?"

Within that second Guy was on the floor. Dead. He had killed him, looked me in the eyes and left. Without saying a single word. He dropped the gun on his way out, I picked it up, inspected it, looked up at the door where he had left and then looked at Guy's body splayed across the floor, in a pool of blood, then I looked over at the dead vicar.

"Funny, 3 humans in the church and I'm the only one that's alive." I said to myself. The lights flickered as I followed in the Joker's footsteps. He didn't actually leave; he was downstairs, in a basement. I walked down the flight of stairs and there they were, a daunting little scene of Batman interrogating the Joker, pressing him up against the wall. I couldn't understand Batman's muffled voice, no one can usually. They hadn't noticed me, so I held up the shotgun and pulled the trigger. And then he lay unconscious on the floor. I just shot the Batman.

"Give me that!" The Joker thrusted his hand towards me, gesturing me to give him the gun. So I did. "I do the shooting around here." He said. "Is he okay?"

"Who? Batman? Yeah, he'll be fine. I couldn't exactly kill Gotham's 'Dark Knight'. I'll leave that for you - Puddin'."

We both sat on the floor with our backs against the wall, not saying a word. Just how we spend most of our time together.


End file.
